


Silence

by angerwasallihad



Series: Behind the Curtain [3]
Category: Major Crimes (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Mother!ship, episode 305
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 12:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3120293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angerwasallihad/pseuds/angerwasallihad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The quiet continued, broken only by the scratch of Sharon’s pencil on paper or the soft rustle as Rusty turned a page in the book he’d pulled from his bag. It wasn’t strange or awkward. It was comfortable. Normal. And neither of them were conscious of it.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

Darkness was falling outside her office window, but Sharon had hardly noticed. It might be a testament to her rigid rule-following nature that she actually found comfort in paperwork and forms at her desk in the evening. There was something really wonderful about organizing the chaos that was a murder investigation in such a way that it all made sense on paper. In fact, she might like the paper pushing part of her job even more now that she was running Major Crimes. The cases could drag on and were rarely straightforward, but the forms required were more manageable, and she was no longer trapped in that endless 72-hour reporting cycle. Forms were comforting here, manageable, and succinct. She liked that.  

 

There was a knock on the door, and she looked up as Rusty walked in. He waved slightly in greeting, keys still in hand. Sharon straightened in her seat, looking down at her watch in surprise. Was he just getting back? He’d been gone quite some time. “Oh, are you just now finished?” 

 

Rusty didn’t answer, just closed the door behind him and tossed his bag on the chair by the door. Sharon went back to the work in front of her, doing her best to appear nonchalant and uninterested. 

 

“How’s Dr. Joe?” She spoke slowly and deliberately wasn’t looking at him, giving him the option to blow her off. 

 

“Good. Uh, great.” 

 

She could sense that he was standing directly in front of her desk now, but continued to look down at the form before her, filling it in as she waited for him to speak. 

 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

 

“About…?” 

 

“That girl, who was here a few days ago, Lina?” 

 

Sharon dropped all pretense and looked up in surprise. Sometimes she forgot that Rusty was as involved in her cases as much as the rest of her team. She wasn’t always sure if that was a good or a bad thing. But clearly that case had gotten to him if he was bringing it up directly after a session with Dr. Joe. 

 

“What happened to her? Now that her family disowned her?” 

 

Oh. _Oh._

 

“Well it’s a federal case, but…Lina has agreed to be a witness against Josh Allen in his murder trial. In return for asylum and tuition to a state university.” 

 

Rusty looked visibly relieved. 

 

“Oh. So better than it was.”

 

Sharon looked away, thinking of the alternatives. 

 

“But worse than it had to be.” Her eyes met his again, and she continued. “You can draw a direct line,” she brought up her pencil, illustrating her words, “from what Lina was hiding from her family to the murder of Mayhar Sethi. Then Lina’s father found out about it anyway.” She lowered her hand and shook her head, still incredulous at the senselessness of the crimes she investigated. “In the most tragic way possible.” Their eyes met again as she finished. 

 

She could see him digesting this, coming to terms with this idea that keeping secrets from those you love, refusing to be open with them, can cause more harm than good. Dropping the intense, serious, tone, Sharon added, “I’m going to be a while. Hamburgers on the way home?” 

 

Rusty’s face broke into a smile, the tension in his body disappearing. “When have I ever turned down hamburgers?” 

 

Sharon grinned and went back to her paperwork. She sneaked a final glance at his retreating back as he nervously wandered into the murder room, closing the door behind him, and she smiled, proud at how far they’d come in just a few weeks. No more pushing him to do what needed to be done. Just sitting back and watching as he did it on his own. 

 

Rusty was standing with his back to her window, facing the rest of her team. Sharon couldn’t hear what was being said, but from her vantage point she could safely assume they were heckling Amy about a certain Lieutenant. Amy looked uncomfortable, everyone else looked gleeful, and even Rusty seemed to be joining in. 

 

She leaned forward a little to peer more closely through the blinds and saw Provenza stop in his progress toward the door. She couldn’t see Rusty’s face or hear what was being said, but everyone else was turned towards him. She could tell when he finally got the words out, because everyone seemed to blink a few times, then all start speaking at once. Though she still couldn’t make out what was being said. Sanchez seemed to be being chastised by Provenza, everyone else just seemed mildly confused or unsure of exactly how to react. Finally Provenza approached Rusty and spoke rather seriously for a moment. She leaned back in her chair in an effort to prevent Provenza from seeing her transparent attempt to eavesdrop. Sinking down in her seat a little, she continued to watch through the blinds. The Lieutenant stopped speaking, and suddenly everyone broke into laughter as Amy shouted something in frustration. The moment was over, and Sharon smiled to herself as she finally looked back down at the forms in front of her, going back to work in earnest this time.

 

Rusty’s head came back around the corner a few minutes later, hunched over his phone as he walked, a strange expression on his face. Sharon automatically looked intently back down at the desk, attempting to appear immersed in her work. Rusty fell heavily into the chair in the corner. Sharon looked up at him over the top of her glasses. He was still looking down at his phone, and she gathered he didn’t really want to talk yet.

 

“Just give me another fifteen minutes and we can go.”

 

He didn’t look up. “Okay. Umm. I think I’ll just stay in here though. Until you’re done.” He slipped his phone into his pocket and finally brought his eyes to meet hers. “I dunno, they’re all being kinda loud out there. And I don’t really feel like being all social.”

 

Sharon nodded absently, shifting her attention back to the desk. She let the silence stretch between them. They both knew why he’d rather be in here with her rather than out there with the team, but neither of them addressed it. They didn’t need to. 

 

The quiet continued, broken only by the scratch of Sharon’s pencil on paper or the soft rustle as Rusty turned a page in the book he’d pulled from his bag. It wasn’t strange or awkward. It was comfortable. Normal. And neither of them were conscious of it. 

 

Eventually Sharon put down her pencil and started to pull all the paperwork in front of her together, depositing it in a drawer. She got to her feet, pulling on her jacket and swinging her purse over her shoulder. 

 

“You ready?” 

 

Rusty nodded and stood as well, pulling his bag onto one shoulder. They both walked over to the door leading to the murder room. Sharon held it open for him, and swept him through it in front of her. 

 

The entire team, minus Provenza, was still assembled in the Murder room. The mood in the room was still light and jubilant, and Sharon smiled. “Everyone go on home. We can tie up any other loose ends tomorrow. Goodnight.” 

 

She turned and continued with Rusty out into the hall as a chorus of  “Goodnight, Captain,” and “See ya, Rusty,” echoed in their wake. 

 

Sharon and Rusty proceeded down the hall to the elevator in relative silence. When the doors slid open in front of them and the stepped onto the elevator, Sharon finally spoke. “So do you want to try somewhere new, or just the usual?” 

 

“Well Frankie’s is right on the way home. So let’s just stick to the usual. We can leave the Volvo here tonight, right? I don’t really feel like driving it back now.” 

 

“Sure.” 

 

The doors slid open again, and Rusty stepped through them first, leading the way across the parking garage. Sharon stepped quickly up beside him, keys in hand. “So you started a new book?” She pointed down at the book still clutched in his hand. “How’s it going?” 

 

They had reached Sharon’s car now, and they both climbed in. 

 

“It’s pretty lame,” Rusty replied when they had both closed their respective doors. “It’s _A Tree Grows in Brooklyn._ You ever have to read it?” 

 

Sharon turned the keys in the ignition, checking instinctively that they were both buckled before turning in her seat and looking behind them as she backed out. “Yes, actually.” She turned back to face the windshield and turned the car towards the entrance. “It was about thirty-five years ago,” she felt rather than heard him snicker. “Don’t even think about it, young man.” She pointed a finger sternly at him and continued, “It was quite some time ago, so you’ll have to remind me.”  

 

Rusty was still grinning mischievously. “Well that explains a lot. I mean this book has got to be, like, older than God.” 

 

Rolling her eyes, Sharon chuckled briefly, sort of half giggle and half hum. “Not that I don’t love that subtle allusion to the idea that I am God-like…” She smirked at him. “But you had better watch it, mister.” She was still smiling playfully. 

 

“Okay, okay. Anyways. So there’s this girl, and she’s living in Brooklyn, like in the early 1900s. And like, her family is poor because they just got here from like Europe or something. And it’s basically just about her life. I mean, I get that it’s probably some comment on the American Dream and like, the development of American culture and stuff. But it’s really boring.” 

 

Sharon nodded, still smiling lightly as she drove. “I wouldn’t write it off completely yet. You never know what might resonate with you. Books are funny that way.” 

 

They drove in relative silence for a few more minutes. Sharon was lost in thought, trying to decide if there was a tactful way to ask exactly what had happened in the Murder Room earlier with Rusty and her team. She’d done her best not to push him one way or another on this issue, just as she had with the Sharon Beck situation. She’d waited for him to work through it on his own, encouraging him once he’d independently made the decision to be open with everyone, but trying very hard not to push. But now it seemed he’d done it. Only Sharon hadn’t been able to see or hear very well. And her curiosity was getting the better of her. 

 

“Ummm Sharon?” Rusty broke the silence.

 

“Hmmm?” 

 

“Do you know about The Village People?” 

 

Sharon blinked confusedly. Where had _that_ come from? 

 

“Yes,” she said slowly, taking her eyes off the road to glance at him. “Disco-dance group. With platform shoes and feathers and leather? _Those_ Village People?” 

 

Rusty nodded. 

 

“Why do you ask?” She kept her eyes on the road as they talked. 

 

“Well, like… I guess you noticed that I sorta told everyone today after I got back from Dr. Joe’s.” He wasn’t looking at her, his eyes firmly fixed on his hands twisted in his lap. 

 

“I did, yes.” 

 

“Right. Well, like, Lieutenant Provenza said this thing about how, you know, as long as I’m not suddenly singing and dressing like the Village people, it doesn’t really matter to him. Which is cool. But like, it made me think. Sharon, am I _supposed_ to be doing those things? I mean, is that what gay people do?” 

 

She felt his eyes come back to her face, and she shot him a quick glance as she exited the freeway. This was not the sort of conversation she wanted to have with him while she was driving and couldn’t safely give him her full attention. It _was_ endlessly encouraging that he felt comfortable having this conversation with her in this enclosed space. She usually didn’t have serious conversations like this while the car was moving; partly because she liked to give him her full attention, but partly because she liked having the option to walk away or to allow Rusty to walk away. But this was an important moment, and she needed to give him her undivided attention. 

 

“Hold that thought for just a second, Rusty, okay?” She pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and unbuckled, but didn’t turn off the car. She turned in her seat to face him directly. 

 

“Rusty. There is absolutely nothing and no one who can tell you who you are _supposed_ to be. Being gay isn’t some personality trait. It isn’t some club that people can kick you out of because they think you don’t adhere to their definition of ‘gay.’ Who you are doesn’t change because you’ve come to the understanding that you were made a little differently.” Her hand rose of its own volition and brushed Rusty’s hair across his forehead affectionately. “Have you talked to Dr. Joe about this? I think he might have a valuable perspective, you know.” 

 

Rusty blinked and shook his head. “No. And like I said, I only thought about it just now. Besides, we’ve been talking about other stuff lately. And I’m asking you.” 

 

Sharon’s hand returned to her lap. “I see. Well like I’ve said before, you are still you, whatever your orientation. And it’s up to you to decide what being gay means for you.” She drew her fingers through her hair absently. “Now, I won’t lie to you. There are going to be people who will try to tell you who you are, even define you by your orientation all your life. But the most important thing is you knowing who you are. And being okay with it. And remembering that you are loved, no matter what.” Sharon stopped, watching Rusty mull this over. 

 

He was no longer looking at her, occupied with watching his hands fiddle with the hem of his jacket. Without even thinking about it, Sharon reached over and covered his hands with one of her own, squeezing lightly and smiling. 

 

“Okay?”

 

Finally, he looked at her again. “Okay.” 

 

She withdrew her hand and reached behind them for her purse, feeling a little relieved. “Great. Now what do you say we go have some dinner?” 


End file.
